


You Do Your Thing

by Telesilla



Series: A Thing or Two About the Giants [4]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Blow Jobs, Bondage, M/M, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That's me, right outfielder and sexual boy scout." <em>--Hunter Pence to Brandon Belt</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	You Do Your Thing

_September 2_  
 _@ Cubs W 7-5_

Hunter has a crappy game--one for four and an error for fuck's sake!--and Cain isn't at his best, but they get some runs and in the end, they play slightly better ball than the Cubs do. Brandon sits again--Boch has got some weird handedness match up fetish--but he gets a pinch hit RBI triple and, Jesus, but he's got a good looking swing. Still looks awkward when he runs, Hunter thinks, but it's a cute awkward.

The thought brings him up short.

Brandon's not cute. Well, not cute like Timmy, at least. He's not hot like Pagan or Kontos or even Buster. He's not the ugliest guy on the team--although, to be fair, there aren't any real dogs in this particular club house--but he's not the best looking either. The last player Hunter slept with was Hamels and Hamels is a pretty attractive guy who came to the show by way of the Square Jawed White Guy Factory.

And yet, Hamels was just a fuck buddy, although they didn't actually fuck--too gay for Hamels or something, which is kind of hilarious given how good he was at giving head. Already, after two times, Brandon's more than that. He was, Hunter realizes, more than that after the first time. Brandon has a something about him, something elusive, that made Hunter want him from pretty much the first moment he met him. Most of the guys treat him like he's a big, overgrown Lab puppy, but still, they shouldn't be as blasé as they are about what he gets up to. Hunter's pretty sure they're sensing something about him too, something that doesn't have anything to do with the career everyone thinks he has ahead of him.

Brandon is who he is. There's no pretense, no bullshit, about him. He's not trying to be solid and all business like Posey, or quiet and self-effacing like Scoots, or boisterous like Panda. He's going to be himself and if that means crying on national television or blowing random teammates in bar bathrooms or doing everything he can to sell an iffy out to the umpire, well, you can take it or leave it.

And that's it, right there. Hunter who, at thirty, still hasn't figured himself out, is drawn to someone who's comfortable with who he is.

Well that and someone whose hoarse begging gets under Hunter's skin in all the best ways.

"Hey!" Hunter feels a sharp jab to his ribs. It's Pagan; he elbows Hunter again for good measure. "Inning's over."

Thank God he'd been staring at the dugout floor while musing, Hunter thinks as they head out onto the field. If he'd been looking at Brandon across the infield, he'd have probably given himself away. As it is, he's just crazy Hunter Pence, off in his own world.

Then they break the tie in the top of the 9th, make it through the home half of the inning and he's doing the outfielder jump with Blanco and Pagan. It's a win, it's a series and it's a happy flight home. The team's in a groove now; Buster and Scoots are on fire and it's like the clubhouse is collectively saying "Melky who?" Hunter, who knows he was brought in to provide another bat in the lineup, wishes he was doing more, but still...they're in it. They're four and a half games ahead of the Dodgers and the beat writers are already talking about magic numbers. The prize is right there and all they have to do is keep playing like this to get it.

Yeah, it's happy flight.

* * *

As they head out to the players parking at AT&T, Brandon falls into step next to Hunter. "How's Wednesday for you? For dinner?"

"Oh yeah," Hunter says, remembering that he'd never actually agreed to come to dinner. "Yeah, that works for me."

"Cool." Brandon bumps him with his shoulder. "See ya tomorrow."

"See ya."

Coming home to an empty apartment doesn't really bother Hunter. Happy flight or not, between the jet lag and the time in the air, he feels strung out and wired. It's late and he knows he should sleep, but he can't. It's late enough that Howie won't be on, but still, Hunter logs into WoW and finds a pick up group looking for a mage.

But even that's no good. Halfway through a dungeon both "fag" and "rape" are used in chat with less than a minute between them. Hunter thinks of Brandon on that team bus, thinks about the chances of there being another gay person or a rape victim in chat, and he goes off on a rant about insensitivity and then leaves the group, depriving them of their DPS just when they need it most. Serves them right, the immature assholes.

He's about to spend some quality time watching SportsCenter from LA--nothing can convince Hunter that Neil and Stan aren't a couple--when the door opens.

"Oh hey," Savanna says with a smile. "I thought you'd be in bed." She comes over, puts her hand on his cheek and drops a kiss on the side of his head.

"Hey," he says, reaching up to squeeze her hand.

"You won," she says.

She sounds more sympathetic than excited, which means she saw some of the game, and he shrugs. "Not my best outing but...we won."

He hears her bag hit the floor with a heavy thud and then she's heading toward the kitchen. "You want some tea?"

"Yeah, some Red Z."

"Calling it that won't make it sound any more macho, you know."

The kettle whistles while she's in her bedroom; Hunter's made the tea and is back on the couch when she comes out.

"Thanks, hon," she says, curling up on the couch with her tea. She's in a pair of sweats and she's done the quick first stage of her makeup removal routine and Hunter feels a sudden burst of affection for her. She's always gorgeous, but hardly anyone sees her like this; it's a privilege Hunter appreciates.

"It was a good road trip, right?" She pays attention to individual games when she's got time, but she doesn't follow the team's record much.

"Yeah, really good. We only lost one game. Posey's fucking raking these days and Scutaro is right behind him." He drinks some tea and then continues, "and I might have picked up a...I dunno, a guy to have a thing with?"

"A boyfriend?"

"I'm not sure that two nights together gives him boyfriend status, but...." Hunter laughs. "He does want me to have dinner with him and his wife, so it's something."

He pauses to drink some tea and and also to tease her a little. It backfires, of course. The minute he puts his cup down, she pounces, her fingers finding all his ticklish spots with deadly accuracy.

"Fuck...stop it...c'mon...damnit!" He's giggling by now and wow, he hates giggling, but she's got him good.

"That's what you get for pausing like that...."

"Okay...fuck...fine...."

When he finally looks up after moping his eyes, she's curled up again, looking for all the world like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "His wife?"

"You know who Belt is?"

She frowns and Hunter tries to remember if she's met Brandon at some function or other. Unless he's taking his shirt off for charity, those functions all blur together and she doesn't go to all of them. "Big guy, scruffy, short brown hair, kinda awkward?" he asks, bringing up things she's likely to have noticed.

"Oh the giraffe guy!" She gives him a look. "He's not exactly your type, is he?"

"Depends on whether my type is based on looks or on...." Hunter laughs as he remembers warming up at Wrigley. "What nefarious deeds I want to get up to."

"Boyfriend," she says with a firm nod.

"What?"

"You already have in jokes."

Hunter scowls, even though he does think of that as an in joke. "He's not my boyfriend. We're not in high school."

She dismisses the statement with a wave of her hand. "So what deeds did you get up to with him."

"Mildly kinky sex." When she flexes her fingers like she's about to tickle him again, he rolls his eyes. "Let's see...he blew me the men's room, I fucked him, jerked off on his face, blew him and made him beg to come."

"In only two nights? Busy boys."

"He's...he really likes sex. He's damn good at it too."

"And he's got an understanding wife. I can't remember her. One of the young Southern blondes?"

"Says the young blonde."

"You say the nicest things, Sweetie. At least I can drink legally."

"They're not all that young, and Belt's wife's Texan not Southern. If you say it's the same thing, I'll tickle _you_."

"Whatever. Does dinner mean more sex?"

"No, she doesn't do threesomes with guys." He holds up a hand. "And it's not my story...."

"Don't worry. I'll ask about the giraffe guy but not anyone else."

"Thanks. His name's Brandon, by the way."

"I thought Brandon was the guy with the hair."

"That's Crawford. I'm sleeping with Belt."

"That must get confusing."

Hunter shakes his head. "Hardly anyone uses first names. It's all last names or nicknames."

"Oh." She pauses to sip her tea. "You're kind of hung up on him, aren't you?"

Savanna's one of his best friends, but right now Hunter wishes she didn't know him as well as she does. "I like him," he says. "It's not like I'm gonna fall in love with a married fuck buddy."

Before she can say anything, Hunter grins at her. "And speaking of fuck buddies?"

"Mike's starting to lose his appeal. He's so commitment shy that he's sure I want to settle down, even though I'm not doing anything to make him think that. I mean...why would I want to if he doesn't want it?" She shrugs. "It's like those ugly straight dudes who are so sure gay guys are going to try to jump their sorry asses."

"I know what you mean. So, no more Mike?"

"Probably not. I met this guy on a shoot last week. I think he's the only straight makeup artist I've ever met."

"Yeah, but is he any good?"

"At sex or makeup?"

"Yes."

She laughs. "Makeup, yes. Sex? Ask me in a couple of days."

Hunter's starting to come down a little; the tea and conversation have helped a lot. He slides over on the sofa and holds his arms out.

"You know," Savanna says as she settles in and leans her head on his chest. "I could totally out you as a cuddler."

"Stop the presses...."

"Headline news."

They sit like that for a while and Hunter knows that she'd sleep with him if he asked. But, as nice as it is to cuddle, sleeping with her would involve waking up with her, which tends to lead to sex. And, as sweet as she is, Savanna's really not the person he wants to have sex with.

_You're kind of hung up on him...._

Fuck.

* * *

_September 3  
vs D-backs, W 8-9 in 10 innings_

Coming into the park to play your first home game after a road trip is a little weird. On the one hand, you played a full game and flew halfway across the country the day before. On the other hand, you slept in your own bed and saw your families again. People are dragging a little, but everyone's in a good mood. Brandon's smiling, but then, he smiles a lot when he's not actually playing, so Hunter can't read too much into it. Cain and Posey both look like cats who ate the canary, which is really a bad phrase to associate with sex, now that Hunter thinks about it. Out of all of them, though, Pagan's the one who might as well have "I had awesome welcome home sex" written on the back of his jersey instead of his number. He's all but glowing.

When they first go out play some casual games of catch before the real practice begins, Hunter and Brandon pair off. They can't talk too much while they're throwing but after they've thrown for a time, Brandon flops down on the grass to stretch out.

"Home, sweet grass," Hunter says, joining him.

"No place like it." Brandon leans back on his hands and looks around. "Sometimes I still can't believe I'm here. Does that go away?"

"Nope. At least it hasn't for me. Not so say I don't have days when it sucks and I wonder what the hell I'm doing, but most of the time I know how lucky I am."

"Yeah."

They stretch for a while, facing each other and pulling each other down. It's kind of hot, but Hunter's able to focus on what he should be doing, which is good, because he usually practices with his cup in and getting hard in one of those is no fun. "Talked to Savanna about you. She calls you Giraffe Guy."

"As long as she smiles when she says it...."

"Does it bug you? The giraffe thing?"

"It used to, but now it's kind of cool if a little weird. I mean there are people wearing hats in the stands, which is just surreal at times."

"I used to envy you guys. The fans here...they show up, which is more than I can say about Houston, and they're mostly not assholes, which is more than I can say about Philly."

"They liked you in Philly." Hunter raises an eyebrow, because how does Brandon know that? "I read some stuff on the internet. You looked hot in that old time uni on that magazine cover."

"Oh that...."

"And taking your shirt off."

"Hey, that was for charity!" Hunter can't help remembering that night and his face goes a little hot.

And, of course, Hunter's fair enough that it shows and Brandon's sharp enough that he catches it. "What?"

"After that show, Hamels blew me in the back of my car. Straight boy, my ass."

Brandon just laughs.

* * *

The game is grueling. Hunter starts off well but then cools down as the night goes on. They have the lead, they blow the lead, they tie it up and then, finally, they win it in the 10th. Hunter joins the others chasing down Scoots so they can mob him; it's funny and it'll play well with the fans. Zito doesn't get the win, but it's the sixth of his starts they've won in a row and that has to feel good. Brandon sits yet again and then pinch hits an RBI single only to be pinch run for by Blanco. Hunter thinks it's bullshit--Brandon can run--but it's not his decision.

The mood in the clubhouse after is raucous and happy, although the place clears out faster than usual because everyone's still a little tired. Hunter heads out to his car, kind of glad he didn't ride his scooter to the park. It's chilly and damp and he wants to just get home and start unwinding. When he gets to his SUV, however, Brandon's leaning against it.

"Do you only let straight guys blow you in your car?"

And it's stupid and kind of dangerous, because holy fuck, that's Jon Miller's car two spots away with no cars in between them, but Hunter thinks, fuck it and pulls Belt into the SUV with him. Good thing he's only got one row of seats in right now; the back's got some junk in it, but there's still room for both of them. Sort of.

"If Miller sees us...." he mutters as Brandon goes for his fly.

"Dude's been in broadcasting for fucking ever. You think he hasn't seen worse than this?"

"You have a...fuck, Brandon!"

Brandon just chuckles around Hunter's dick, which is a weird but good feeling; Hunter leans back until his head hits the window. He's sitting on a bag of lumpy equipment, but he really doesn't care. "Jesus, you're like...oh fuck...the king of the quickie blow jobs."

"What would you do?" Brandon asks. His stubbly cheek is against Hunter's dick and it's on this side of too much stimulation. Hunter shivers and tries to pay attention to what Brandon's saying. "If you'd come already? If we were in bed and I was blowing you and it couldn't be a quickie?"

"Fuck...you want me to talk?" Hunter's voice breaks and he squeaks the last word out because Brandon's gone back down on him.

"Mmmmm hmmm."

"I can't...." Hunter gets out, and Brandon backs off a little, using more tongue and less suction. Hunter's not sure that's going to make it easier to talk, but he gives it a try. "Give you a half hour...do whatever you want with your mouth but...fuck! But..no making me come...."

Brandon keeps sucking, but Hunter can hear the sound of him doing something else. He looks down and in the dim light of the parking lot, he can see Brandon's shoulder moving. 

"Cut that out," he says. "Gimme your hands." He traps Brandon's hands, pinning his wrists down. "You'd want to come," he says. "I know how much...fuck, really this is what I mean...God, Brandon!" Hunter bites the inside of his mouth hard and tries to keep talking. "You love giving head and...you'd want to get me off so I'd let you...but no...."

Brandon makes that noise and even muffled, it's gets under Hunter's skin. He pushes up with his hips a little and Brandon works with his rhythm, taking him all the way in. It only takes a couple of thrust and then the feel of Brandon's throat working around the head of Hunter's cock is just too much.

"Oh God...fuck...Brandon!" Hunter's head hits the window again as he comes, but he doesn't really care, because fuck, Brandon's mouth is the best thing ever.

"I want to do that," Brandon says, his voice shaky. "We've gotta do that."

"We will." Hunter lets go of Brandon's wrists and pulls him up until Brandon's sort of laying on top of him. Something in the bag of stuff Hunter's sitting on, a bat maybe, digs into Hunter's thigh but he ignores it.

As he's sliding his hand down Brandon's chest to get to his dick, his thumb catches a nipple. Brandon gasps and squirms; Hunter pauses. "Really?"

"No, not really," Brandon pants. "Anything more than that hurts."

"Got it." Hunter stops messing around and goes straight for Brandon's cock. "Got this too," he says with a little laugh at his own joke.

His hand's dry and he doesn't want to hurt Brandon, so he settles for squeezing carefully and teases the slick head of Brandon's dick with his thumb. He finds a spot that makes Brandon gasp and shudder, so he concentrates on it, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin.

"Fuck...fuck...I'm gonna...Hunter!" It's nice to get a warning but Hunter doesn't stop and a second or two later, Brandon's coming all over Hunter's pants.

When it's over, Brandon slumps down against Hunter and just rests his head on Hunter's shoulder. "Sorry about your jeans."

Hunter lazily runs his dry hand over Brandon's back. "'S'okay, I've got some sweats in here somewhere." After a minute, Hunter has to shift. "Sorry, I think I'm sitting on a bat."

"That's what all the boys say," Brandon says with a laugh, as he moves around. It takes a moment for him to find a spot but then he's leaning against the back of a seat zipping up his jeans.

"Well if you're fucking them it's true."

Hunter's moved and yeah, he was right, it is a bat. He starts digging around in the bag. "Ought to give this one a commemorative name."

"You're so weird. What're you gonna call it? Awesome quickie?"

"Speedy."

"Spell it with a D E E and you could get an endorsement."

"Huh?" He was right, there is a pair of sweats in the bag. Getting out of his jeans takes some doing and he has no idea what Brandon's talking about.

"You've never listened to a midnight radio rebroadcast or seen a TV recording of a game? SpeeDee is an oil change place. They do an ad every time there's a pitching change."

"I never noticed." Hunter does occasionally listen to the midnight radio repeat; it's oddly relaxing to listen to Miller and Flem, even when Hunter's had a bad game.

"Give it time."

"Speaking of midnight...don't you have to get home?" In case Brandon's thinking Hunter's trying to get rid of him, he adds," because if you don't we can go somewhere a little more comfortable."

"Nah, I really should head out." Brandon leans forward and gives Hunter a long slow kiss. "I just wanted you to know that...look, I'm not gonna totally ignore you now that we're home."

Something Hunter didn't even know was tight relaxes a little in his chest. "I don't want to make things complicated or awkward."

"I won't let that happen."

"Okay."

Hunter's dressed by now, and he sits up a little and looks around. Miller's car is gone, which is good but.... "Fuck."

"What?"

"I hope you were right about Miller because his car's not there. Which means he came by while we were...."

"Will you relax? I don't think anyone could have seen us and if he did, he's not going to out us. It's not like he's Baggs or one of those guys; he doesn't have a column to fill."

"Okay. It's just...I'm the new guy."

"I know what that's like." Brandon kisses him again. "We're not the first players to fool around and we won't be the last. It's not like we did it in plain daylight in front of Amy G. and the cameras."

"Gah, no thanks."

"She'd probably give us our own little web blog thing. The Awkward Gay Boys."

"I hate you so much."

* * *

_September 4  
vs D-backs L 8-6 in 11 innings_

Brandon hits one into the water the next night. It's a beautiful beautiful thing even if Hunter can't really appreciate it from his place near second. Still he knows what it looks like--Brandon's swing is pure power, his legs and hips and arms and shoulders working to drive the ball out of the yard and into McCovey Cove. There's probably a dirty joke in the fact that Hunter scores on the home run--maybe something about Brandon knocking him in--but he's too happy for Brandon to care.

It doesn't matter in the end. They go into extras innings, again, but this time there's no happy ending. Lopez gives up a couple of runs and they can't come back in the bottom of the eleventh. It's disheartening to lose in extras and Lopez shoulders the blame like the good guy he is. Hunter doesn't blame him; the bullpen is amazing but baseball is baseball, you're gonna lose about a third of the time.

"That homer was still awesome," he says to Brandon as they change into street clothes. "And here come the vultures."

"Do you ever want to go off script?"

"All the time," Hunter mutters and then gets out of the way of the usual press suspects. He hears Brandon telling someone that he was just looking for a pitch to hit and that you can't really blame Lopez because they should have gotten more runs.

No one wants to talk to Hunter, which is fine with him; he had a decent game, but nothing newsworthy. So this time he's the one waiting for Brandon. He parked near Brandon's car (and nowhere near Miller's) and it's early enough that there are still people around. Tomorrow's a day game and with this one going long, Hunter's torn between wanting sex and wanting to go home and crash. When Brandon finally shows up, it's pretty clear that he's wiped out too.

"Hey," Hunter says. "That really was awesome. I hope Haylee recorded the game."

"Yeah, she usually does. Speaking of which, we still on for tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Haylee's coming to the game. She usually hangs out with Ali and Nicole and maybe Windy."

"Damn."

"What?"

"I'm gay and I still think that's a lot of good looking women in one place."

"No kidding. We figured on eating early, right after the game, so if you come in on your scooter, I can drive you home after dinner."

"Works for me."

"Oh and Haylee wanted to know how strict you are about the diet. I told her about the coffee and the beer, but she wants to know about chicken fried steak."

"That is so not fair." Hunter pretends to wipe his chin. "Am I drooling?"

"If it's a problem, she got some salmon she can poach."

"Fuck paleo." Hunter knows he'll pay for it, but he doesn't care. He hasn't had chicken fried steak since he went on the fucking diet. "You remind me of home a lot." The words come out before Hunter can stop them and he's suddenly wary, not sure he wants to see Brandon's reaction.

But Brandon just grins that broad happy grin of his. "Really?"

"Yeah, you stupid redneck."

"Fuck you," Brandon says, before leaning in to swat Hunter on the back of the head.

"Keep doing that and you never will." 

"Empty threats." Brandon pauses, and Hunter gives him an out.

"I should let you go. Is there anything I can bring tomorrow?"

"Nah, we're good."

"See ya."

Hunter waits and then as Brandon's getting into his car, he yells, "Hey Belt, it really was awesome!"

* * *

_September 5_  
 _vs D-backs L 6-2_

The next day sucks. The fact that Brandon drove in their two runs doesn't make Hunter feel any better about it. Nor does the pathetic slap fight--Hunter can't even call it a brawl--that breaks out when McDonald runs into Panda. It's mostly guys milling around aimlessly; Hunter doesn't even bother to run hard to get there from right field. The fact that they broke up the no-hitter Cahill had going into the seventh isn't really that big an accomplishment. It's also another loss for Bum, who's starting to look gassed. On top of it all, Nady goes down with what looks like a hammy issue.

File under "Games We Need To Just Forget," Hunter thinks as he finishes his shower. He can feel the optimism of the road trip dying and he tries to remind himself that they have no real competition in the West. They're still in first place, they're still four and a half games ahead of the Dodgers, who are running out of time to get their shit together. They can do this, but....

No buts, he tells himself firmly. They can do this.

The ride to Brandon's place isn't as awkward as Hunter expected; Haylee makes fun of the fight and doesn't talk about the rest of the game. "Seriously, you guys look ridiculous out there during fights."

"They're totally sad," Hunter says, laughing. "I mean I don't want to go out there swinging but this one wasn't even worth the effort of getting there."

"I like how Buster gets; he's all puffed up like some weird bird," Brandon says.

"He's the only one with any protection." Hunter laughs, remembering how he felt when Buster told him he was okay. "And anyway, it's Buster's world, we're all just living in it."

The conversation stays light when they get there, too. The kitchen's big so Hunter hangs out at the island while Haylee cooks and Brandon helps her. It's obvious that he's not just helping so Hunter won't think he's that guy who lets his wife do all the cooking expect when they have company. Brandon knows where stuff is and while he's a little awkward, he and Haylee work well together.

Just as the food's done and being moved to the table, the doorbell rings and a florist delivery guy brings the flowers Hunter ordered.

"Oh, that's sweet. You didn't have to," Haylee says with a big smile.

"Someone's mama raised him right," Brandon says.

"Yeah, well," Hunter says and then the words fall out before he can stop them. "It's not like Miss Manners has any advice for this kind of situation."

Fuck.

Haylee just laughs and puts the flowers on the table. "Well she should."

The food is fantastic. "This would be incredible even if it weren't my first chicken fried steak in years." He shakes his head. "This club is bad for my resolve; between your cooking and Amber's cake pops, I'm really tempted to rethink the whole thing."

"What do you miss the most?" Haylee asks.

"Bread," Hunter says right away. "Followed by anything made from potatoes." He emphasizes the point by eating another forkful of mashed potatoes.

Haylee nods. "Can you have cheese? Because I love cheese."

"There are people who go lacto-paleo," Hunter tells her. "Just like some vegetarians. But normally, no, no dairy."

"He'd miss sweets," Haylee says, tilting her head toward Brandon.

"Yeah? I would have thought it was pasta."

"He tells everyone about the pasta. But really, he's got the biggest sweet tooth." Haylee laughs. "Take note, he can totally be had for cheesecake."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Brandon scowls across the table at her.

"Why not?" Hunter asks. "You already know that I can be had for cake pops and chicken fried steak."

"And blow jobs," Brandon says.

Hunter almost chokes on his mashed potatoes. He knows his face is beet red.

"Brandon Kyle Belt, don't be a dick."

Somehow that makes it both better--because she's so obviously okay with the whole thing--and worse--because that was really funny. Hunter manages not to die an embarrassing death by potato, but it's a close call.

"Sorry," Brandon says, not looking sorry at all.

"Thing is, it's true," Hunter says, because why not? "It's a hopeless weakness of mine."

"You and every guy out there," Haylee says.

"Yeah, it's not exactly anything unusual."

"Hey," Hunter points his fork at Brandon. "You brought it up. I'm just agreeing."

Haylee looks at them and shakes her head. "And here I was hoping you'd be a steadying influence, Hunter."

"You clearly have him mistaken with some other wild-eyed, kale eating weirdo," Brandon says.

At which point the only thing Hunter can think of to do is bug his eyes out and stick out his tongue.

"My God, you look like you're running to make a catch." Brandon turns to Haylee. "Have you seen him?"

"I've seen worse," she says. "I mean really, just watch Madison pitch. And it's not just the face; at least Hunter isn't out there blowing snot rockets in front of God and everyone watching TV."

It's only later, when the conversation's moved on to life in the minors that Hunter remembers that Haylee's had sex with Bum. He can't help wondering if Bum makes that face during sex, because seriously, what a turn off. He'll have to ask Brandon later.

All in all, it's a really fun evening; they sit at the table talking long after the meal is over. Haylee's down to earth and funny, and when, as is inevitable wherever two or more players are in a room, the talk turns to baseball, she keeps up without a problem. Hunter likes her more than he expected to, and really he should have known better. He likes Brandon after all and he can't imagine Brandon marrying anyone awful.

"So what do you think," he finally asks her. "Can we do it this year?" And wow, to just be having this conversation seriously isn't something Hunter ever thought he'd have. He's never been on a team that had a chance.

"Oh we'll take the division," she says. "I don't mean to put us down or anything, but, seriously who else is going to?"

"Way to show confidence in the team," Brandon mutters.

"No, she's right," Hunter says. "I mean our record's decent but we're what, eight games behind Washington?"

"Washington's the obvious problem, but the sleeper is Saint Louis," Haylee says.

"I'm more worried about the Reds," Brandon says. "And Atlanta."

"I think Atlanta will run out of steam," Hunter says. "They might make it in but they can't go all the way."

"I hope it's us and the Yankees," Brandon says.

Hunter stares at him. "The Yankees?"

"Yeah. Talk about old school rivalries...."

"I hope it's not Texas," Hunter says. "Because can you imagine losing three years in a row?"

"What if it's Oakland?" Haylee asks.

"Make sure all your breakables are tucked away." Hunter looks at both of them. "Oh God, you don't even....were you even alive in '89?" he asks Haylee.

"Oh come on, I know what you're talking about," she says. "And anyway, it's not like you're that ancient."

"I remember watching it." Hunter says, and it's true. It's the first World Series he actually remembers watching. "Honestly? It kind of freaked me out. I had nightmares about earthquakes for a couple of years after that."

"Yeah?" Brandon says. "The first time I went through one down in Fresno, it was weird how all the locals were so casual about it. It wasn't a big one by any means but...fuck, the earth was _moving_."

"I'll make your earth move, baby," Hunter says and does the eyebrow thing.

Haylee cracks up. "Oh God," she says through snorts of laughter. "I like him, babe. I really really do."

"Told you so," Brandon says with that big grin of his.

When Haylee finally brings dessert out, it's fruit. Brandon bitches about it, but Hunter's glad because even though he only had one small serving of the potatoes, processed sugar would be way too much. Even though they eat slowly and the conversation meanders, it's still pretty early when Haylee finally gets up and makes shooing motions. "Go on," she says. "Take Hunter home and I don't want to see you until morning."

She looks at Hunter and then nods. "Actually, I'd like to see both of you in the morning. We're going up to Napa tomorrow. You want to come with?"

Hunter glances at Brandon who just shrugs. "She makes the plans; I just go along."

"Sure," Hunter says, not sure at all. "Why not?"

Once they're on the road, he looks over at Brandon. "I don't want to...."

"If you were interfering, she wouldn't have asked."

"Okay, it's just...."

"What?"

"I've slept with married players before and even ones who had arrangements with their wives weren't like this."

"Is that a problem?"

"Hell no. I think I have developed a deep, abiding and totally platonic adoration for your wife. I'm just not sure how it works."

"I don't always know either," Brandon says, surprising Hunter. "But we've been making it up as we go along and it works for us. If it doesn't work for you...then you and I talk it through."

"Okay," Hunter says.

"And now," Brandon says. "I seem to recall being told that, if I behave, do exactly as I'm told and ask very very nicely...."

Hunter reaches into his pocket. "What Haylee's number? Because I forgot to ask if you've behaved."

"You'd really do it, wouldn't you?"

"Probably not, but just because I don't want to interrupt the rest of her evening."

"Why don't you just assume I've behaved?"

"Wellll...."

"Look," Brandon says. "I haven't humped anyone's leg recently."

"Good, because I don't have a rolled up newspaper handy."

"Then let's assume, for the sake of sex, that I have behaved."

"That's a start. And that," Hunter says, pointing, "is my building."

Brandon finds a spot and then they're heading up toward Hunter's apartment.

"Nice," Brandon says, looking around. "What are you...fifteen minutes from the park?"

"Yeah. You can't see quite see it from here, but it's close enough to take a scooter."

"Your scooter is the stupidest thing." Brandon grins at him. "And I totally want one."

"I knew you were just after my scooter! This isn't about me at all."

"Dork."

"Is that behaving? I don't think so."

"Tell me what is and I'll do it." Belt says. He looks at the front of Hunter's jeans and licks his lips.

"Bedroom," Hunter says, pointing down the hall. "It's the one that doesn't have lingerie all over the bed."

"Damn, I was hoping to see you in a bustier."

"Yeah, no."

Hunter grabs a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and then heads down the hall. Brandon's standing in front of the big window in Hunter's bedroom looking out over the city and the water. "I don't ever want to play anywhere else," he says as Hunter comes into the room. "I know it sounds stupid and I never expected to feel this way about California, but...."

"Maybe New York," Hunter says. He puts the water down on the nightstand and then moves to stand next to Brandon. Normally he'd stand behind whoever it was and wrap his arms around them, but Brandon's a little too tall for that, so he just slides an arm around Brandon's waist and pulls him in close.

"You? In pinstripes?"

"Oh c'mon, don't tell me you've never thought of it."

"Okay, fair enough. Who hasn't?" Brandon laughs a little. "And who knows? I was in _Fresno_ before this. Anywhere would look better."

It's nice to stand here like this, looking out as the last of the twilight fades and the city lights take over. It's more than nice, actually; it feels weirdly romantic, even though any minute, they'll turn their backs on the view to have kinky gay sex. Carpe the fucking noctum, he thinks, sliding a hand up Brandon's arm.

When he digs his fingers in and tugs, Brandon turns, mouth already opening. "Yeah," Hunter says, grabbing Brandon's other arm. "Yeah, Brandon."

Because tomorrow's an off day, Hunter doesn't worry about Brandon's mouth; he licks and sucks and bites at Brandon's lips in between kissing him as deeply as he can. It's messy in all the best way; after a few minutes both of them are panting and okay yeah, drooling a little. It should be gross, but Hunter's too into it to care.

"Hunter...." Brandon moans, shoving up against him. "Don't make me hump your leg."

"Not this time," Hunter says and Brandon chuckles. Hunter pulls away from him and shakes his head. "You look so fuckable right now...driving me crazy."

"So do you."

"Subtle." With a laugh, Hunter reaches down between them to press his hand up against Brandon's hard on. "You gonna last?"

Brandon scowls at him but before he can say anything, Hunter adds, "how do you feel about cock rings? And bondage?"

The way Brandon bites his lower lip is pretty much all the answer Hunter needs, but he waits until Brandon says, "oh hell yeah."

"Good because that's what I'm gonna do to you...cuff you do the bed, slap a cock ring on you and then ride you 'til I come."

There's that lip bite again; this time Brandon's biting hard and his eyes are wide and glazed over. "Now?" he says.

Hunter thinks about making him beg, but no. "Can't do it while you're naked," he says, already pulling off his own clothes. "Also, I know we're not playing that way, but I still want you to give me a safeword."

"Standard traffic lights," Brandon says as he sits on the bed and pulls his boots off. "Red, yellow, green."

"Got it, thanks."

Maybe it was premature, but Hunter's had his best wrist cuffs attached to the bed ever since they got back from Chicago. The water's on the nightstand along with the and condoms. All they need is....

"Lie down on your back once you're naked," he tells Brandon. "I'll be back in a sec."

Brandon's exactly where Hunter wants him when Hunter gets back from the bathroom. "Had to get some towels," Hunter says, tossing the towels on the floor next to the bed.

"Be prepared."

"That's me, right outfielder and sexual boy scout."

Brandon snorts and then gets looks a little more serious. "I like that you're funny."

"Thanks. I think."

"I mean it; I like someone who doesn't think sex is all serious business."

"L O L fucking," Hunter says.

"You're also a geek."

"Don't get too mouthy or I'll gag you." He watches Brandon for a second and then smiles. "You'd like that. The lip biting gives it away."

"Not this time, though."

"No, I want to hear you this time." Digging around in the nightstand, Hunter comes up with a cock ring.

"What else have you got in there?" Brandon asks, sitting up a little to peer into the drawer.

"Stuff." Hunter leans over and pushes on Brandon's chest until he's lying down again. "And things."

Sitting down on the bed, Hunter kisses Brandon and then leans over him. The cock ring is a basic leather strap that closes with velcro and Hunter grins a little as he puts it into place around Brandon's dick. Brandon's so fucking big and Hunter suddenly can't wait to get feel that gorgeous cock opening him up. "You good?"

"Yeah." Brandon's voice is rough and he puts his arms over his head without waiting for Hunter to tell him to.

"Mmmmm...." Hunter says, taking in the view before reaching for the cuffs chained to the headboard. Padded and soft from use, they buckle onto Brandon's wrists easily. "Still good?"

"Still green," Brandon says, his eyes closed. He twists his wrists a little and then grins. "Yeah, really good. These are nice."

As much as Hunter would like to get the party started right away, he knows better. "Wanna watch you do this," he says as he pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. "Watch you get yourself slicked up for me."

"I could do it in advance, like maybe just before we left the park." Belt's smile is wicked. "Be ready for you."

"Oh fuck, you are fucking unbelievable." Hunter slides two fingers up inside himself and then catches his breath as he twists them hard. He's been prepping for this over the last couple of nights; he hasn't been using his biggest dildoes, but at least he's gotten a little practice in. He's not really sure why it's such a thing for him; most of the time, he'd rather be the one doing the fucking.

Maybe it's that he's still very much on top here--with Brandon cuffed to the bed like some big, awesome sex toy--or maybe it's that Hunter's viewing the whole thing as some kind of queer macho thing, like he has to prove that he can take it.

Or maybe, it's that Brandon's not a one night stand. Maybe it's that Hunter trusts him.

He shies away from the thought and squirms; he's up to three fingers and yeah, he's good to go. Grabbing one of the condoms, he gets it out of the package and then rolls it onto Brandon's dick.

"I suppose you can do this with your mouth," he says.

"Nah. Tried it a couple times but then there was this one time when I almost swallowed the rubber and spent like twenty minutes coughing."

"God," Hunter says after he's done laughing like an idiot. "You are _such_ a dork."

"So people keep telling me."

"Because it's true." Hunter straddles Brandon's thighs and then bends down to kiss him. "Keep your hips still and your ass flat on the bed."

Prep or not, Hunter takes it easy, sinking down on Belt's dick one slow inch at a time. Even so, it's intense. "Fuck," he says. "Oh fuck...."

"Fuck," Brandon echoes. "Jesus, Hunter...."

Hunter has to pause, it's almost too much sensation for him to process. It's not just the physical, although, fuck, that's amazing. But even with Brandon tied to the bed, Hunter feels weirdly vulnerable, caught on the edge of losing himself, losing his control. He reaches out and rests his hands on Brandon's chest.

"Hunter?" Brandon looks up at him, his brow creased. "It's okay," he adds.

"Yeah," Hunter says, and it's true; suddenly, like a switch being flipped, it really is okay. "Oh fuck yeah...." And then he's moving again, lifting up and then back down and it's more than just okay, it's fucking fantastic. He keeps moving, a slow steady pace that has Brandon moaning and biting his lip.

It feels like a major accomplishment when Hunter finally takes all of Brandon's cock in. He goes still for a moment, reaching up to rub his thumb against Brandon's lower lip. "You feel...really fucking good inside me," he says and normally he'd cringe at something like that, but it makes Brandon smile.

Brandon licks at Hunter's thumb and then says, "feels pretty good from here too."

"Yeah? Cos it's about to get a whole lot better."

Pressing his hands to the bed on either side of Brandon's chest, Hunter starts to move again. The angle's good and it's getting easier and easier to move until all Hunter feels is the steady glide of Brandon's cock inside him. He's so caught up in what he's feeling that he barely notices that Brandon's tossing his head and swearing.

"Hunter," Brandon moans. "God...Hunter...please!"

"Please what," Hunter manages to get out. "What...."

"Wanna move...wanna fuck you...make it good for you."

"Yeah," Hunter says. "Yeah, do it!"

Brandon's careful; he matches Hunter's rhythm as he rocks his hips up and...goddamn, but now that he's moving, it's even better. Hunter digs his fingers into the blanket and tries to last, tries to hang on because he wants more, needs more....

"So fucking good," he says, looking down at Brandon. "Riding you...."

"Look at you...so hot, Hunter...so hot to see you like this...." As Brandon's voice trails off, he makes that noise Hunter loves and once again, hearing it makes Hunter a little wild. 

He leans forward, wanting to get closer to Brandon and the slight change of angle makes everything perfect. Brandon's dick is hitting him in just the right spot and Hunter's whining just a little because it almost hurts and it's so good and he's not sure how much of this he can take and maybe he can come from just this alone and....

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...." he mutters over and over, slamming himself down on Brandon's cock as hard as he can.

"C'mon...c'mon Hunter...wanna see you come...all over me again."

Hunter's almost there, so fucking close, but it's just not going to happen, not like this. He teases himself as much as he can, puts it off as long as he can, but then Brandon starts making that fucking noise again. Balancing as well as he can on one hand, somehow Hunter has the coordination to get his other hand around his dick.

"Now," he chokes out. "Fuck me hard, damnit!"

Brandon shoves up into him and all it takes is a few more hard thrusts of Brandon's cock before Hunter's coming all over his hand and Brandon's chest. It's perfect; it feels so fucking good that Hunter wishes it could last forever. He rides it out until he's he's leaning over Brandon panting like he's just run out an in the park home run. Only this, he thinks with a little laugh, is a lot better.

"How close're you?"

"Close...like really really...oh fuck!" Brandon yelps as Hunter, lifts up and fumbles for a moment before he undoes the cock ring.

Hunter can really feel the burn now, but he sinks back down onto Brandon's dick and says, "do it. Do it, now!"

With a loud, wordless yell, Brandon pushes up into Hunter once and then his hips go still. He pulls on the cuffs and throws his head back as he comes and God, but he looks amazing--pure physical power willingly submitting to Hunter's control.

If Hunter could come again, he would.

Because he can't, he rides out Brandon's orgasm and then strokes Brandon's chest as he comes down from it. "Wow," Brandon finally says. "God, Hunter, that was...."

"Yeah, it really was."

Hunter can't help wincing a little as he moves until he's sitting on the bed next to Brandon. He's sore but it's a good sore and he's grinning as he reaches up to undo the cuffs.

"You okay?" Brandon asks.

"What, you can't tell?" Hunter leans down and kisses him lightly. "How about you?"

"What, you can't tell?" Brandon says with a laugh. He stretches a little and then reaches down to deal with the condom. Once that's taken care of and Hunter's handed him a towel, he turns a little and Hunter can't help smiling. It seems they've reached the spooning portion of the events.

"Savanna's out for the evening?" Brandon asks once Hunter's pressed up against his back.

"Yeah. She might roll in sometime later. If we're still awake, we'll probably hear her."

"I know what you said, but...she's okay?"

"Define okay," Hunter says with a laugh. "Been a while since anyone stayed the night with me, so she'll tease me and maybe call you Giraffe Guy. Then, if she likes you, she'll lay out too much information about the latest boyfriend.

"If you mean is she okay with this, with us, yeah."

"Cool."

"Does Haylee want to know? Details I mean."

"Not always. She's not really interested in random guys I pick up in bars or guys from other teams unless something out of the ordinary happens." Brandon shrugs a little. "I feel the same way. If she hooks up with someone for a night, shewe might tell me if the sex was really good, but normally she doesn't bother. She tells me more about people like Jennifer."

"That's the...dancer?"

"Yeah. Krystil Lite."

"That's one awesome stripper name. She's blonde?"

"Platinum, with pink highlights. Haylee described her as a bubblegum Suicide Girl type."

"Haylee," Hunter says with a laugh, "has an awesome turn of phrase."

"You're falling in love with my wife!"

"I really am."

When they get up later to raid the kitchen, Brandon sighs. "Your fridge...it's all rabbit food and meat."

"Check the freezer," Hunter says, as he digs around for a baking sheet.

"Oooo! Should I be eating your roommate's ice cream?"

"How much is up there and what flavors are there?"

"Looks like three and a half pints. Cake Batter, Chubby Hubby, more Cake Batter and some Americone Dream."

"The Cake Batter. That way she'll still have some. Spoons in that drawer."

"Okay, and we can pick some more up for her on the way back tomorrow." Brandon starts to dig into the ice cream and then stares at Hunter. "What are you doing?"

"Making kale chips. It's pretty easy of you already have some cut up kale." After tossing the kale with a little bit of olive oil, Hunter pauses. "Can't remember, do you like spicy stuff? Mildly spicy."

"Yeah."

"Cool," Hunter says, adding pepper flakes to the salt and pepper he's sprinkling on the kale. "Give it twenty minutes...."

"You think I'm gonna eat your weird ass food?"

"You will once you've tried one."

"So the first one's free?"

Hunter scoots over and nudges Brandon, "hey kid, I can hook you up with some kale."

"Weirdo.

The thing about Brandon, Hunter thinks, watching Brandon scarf down Savanna's ice cream, isn't that Brandon calls him weird. Everyone does that. It's that Brandon makes it a term of affection--like he likes and accepts Hunter's weirdness instead of just putting up with it. It's an echo what Hunter was thinking the other day, about how Brandon is his own person. To know that Brandon thinks of Hunter the same way is....

It's something.

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say about this one, although I will say the series is heading in a different direction than I intended. But I'm good with that; I like it when a fic or series is organic and does its own thing. If you didn't already know, yes [kale chips](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/baked-kale-chips/) are a real thing. I've never tried them but I hear they're tasty and addictive. No one knows much about Savanna, but she's really attractive, so I made her a model.
> 
> As usual, the lovely and talented Darkrose deserves my thanks, not just for being encouraging, but for putting up with me not cooking because I'm in a manic writing stage.


End file.
